MOLOCH
Bend. Break. Kneel. Crawl. CD
01. In Chrysalis
02. Bleeding Through The Interrogation
03. The Bunker
04. Slowly Chewing Umbilical
05. Another Family Slaughters Itself In The Countryside
06. 16.03.13
07. Mother Medusa
Bend. Break. Kneel. Crawl. is Moloch's first new material since their Love Songs 7" in 2019, and in a world that has spent the better part of the last seven years rotting in slow motion, their absence has felt borderline criminal. This is music that should have been blaring relentlessly as everything fell apart - uncompromising, merciless, and utterly indifferent to comfort. They have been sorely, painfully missed.
A band that has always operated on its own terms, Moloch remain stubbornly immune to trends, timelines, or expectation. While they boast a slew of split releases and singles under their belt, the fact that this is only their third full-length in nearly twenty years says everything about their refusal to dilute or rush what they do. Across seven tracks, Bend. Break. Kneel. Crawl. delivers a towering, abrasive masterclass in hulking, snarling sludge-music that drags, bludgeons, and overwhelms with total authority. There's no reinvention, no softening, no concession to time passed: just a band still crushing everything in its path and reminding everyone else exactly how far below them they remain.
CD limited to 102 copies
DL / LP version released by the band
CS version released by Dry Cough
US version released by Howling Mine
Video by James Atkinson - Threshold Guardian
Reviews
There's a strong argument, one I'd agree with, for crowning Moloch as the best sludge band this country has ever produced, even taking into account the rich scene of bands we've enjoyed over the last two decades and more, and the one massive elephant (or is it a Monkey?) in the room also from Nottingham with historical importance.
Moloch have been a steady consistency in the ugliest side of the sound for such a long time now, records that are landmarks in the genre and one of the best live bands you can see; it was true of them back when they started and remains so. The anomaly lies in the fact this Bend. Break. Kneel, Crawl. is only their third full length, but if anything only ramps up the excitement for its release.
The names of those involved in its production are all familiar - James Atkinson, Boulty, James Plotkin; Superfi and Dry Cough Records - which is of no surprise. The whole thing sounds incredible, bristling with that urgent, dispirited energy that is the core of sludge. The familiarity of it, hearing the band that you know of from your favourite gigs, is something that keeps coming back, getting that thrill from the comfort of your own home.
Chris' scorched earth, acerbic vocals are as ever a sonic weapon for Moloch to wield, setting them apart. Right through to its end, on the excellent closing Mother Medusa, the vitriol holds firm and true, as the guitar shimmers and batters in revolving turns. The middle section of the album descends into various stamping, clunking waves shattering through venomous metronomic riffs of despair.
You feel in something of a daze as it ends, released from its spell, removed from the despondency of its attack. Moloch have created an album that showcases the best that sludge can be. It was never in doubt.
- Ninehertz
British sludge doom titans Moloch have been missing in action for a while, with seven long years passing since their 2019 Love Songs 7" release, but they've returned with only their third full-length in almost twenty years of existence. Their prodigious number of splits aside, that kind of release schedule has always left a Moloch full-length feeling like an event to be celebrated. Well, Bend. Break. Kneel. Crawl is out now through a mix of labels: Dry Cough on cassette, SuperFi on CD, through the band directly on vinyl, and we'll see if that time away has dulled their nihilistic fury at all. I suspect not.
The torturous riffs of opener In Chrysalis feel as if they've been dredged from some blackened swamp, complete with the kind of suffocating atmospheres that would make Godflesh proud. A queasy, roiling groove scrapes underneath a nihilistic scream, making way for bleak, cold, clean guitar interludes which, in turn, provide a bleak foil for the sheer doom that cakes everything.
Bend. Break. Kneel. Crawl is an album of suffering; an album built on the pain that all humans must endure, and an expression of the darkness we can find in ourselves. The Bunker is a merciless, almost martial industrial stomp towards oblivion, beset by squalling feedback like a classic EyeHateGod track, while Slowly Chewing Umbilical is jagged and more uneven, yet ferociously intense in its delivery. Moloch are incredibly pissed off about something, and it shows in their focused, merciless assault on the senses. It is suffocating, it is caustic, it is uncompromising, and it fucking rules.
There's no evolution, no deviation from the core of their dragging, sludgy oppression, and it is almost impressively one-dimensional. But who needs deviation when the original sound is so pure of intent and so well fitting? Not me. I'd happily drown in the black tar riffs of Another Family Slaughters Itself In The Countryside forever, such is the blood-itching hunger it showcases, or in the Godfleshian nightmare of 16.03.13. Closer Mother Medusa slowly grinds everything to a halt, where it feels that all the light has been snuffed out, and we are left with only darkness and pain.
There has been something about the British underground sludge and doom scenes for a while now, spewing out some of the most uncompromisingly heavy and ugly bands into a world seemingly heralding their coming with how fucked up everything is. But Moloch have been doing this a long time, and it shows on Bend. Break. Kneel. Crawl that there is still room for it to get heavier and uglier. This is an album that feels one or two steps away from the primordial Albion ooze that excreted all the misery of today. It is suffocating, it is caustic, it is uncompromising, and it fucking rules. Moloch haven't missed a beat.
- The Sleeping Shaman